


All I Want (Is Destruction)

by shamusandstone (theleaveswant)



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-29
Updated: 2009-05-29
Packaged: 2017-10-12 08:46:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/123058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theleaveswant/pseuds/shamusandstone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the cake and the file</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Want (Is Destruction)

Noah walked into Bob Bishop's office in Hartsdale at the same moment that Bob let out a heavy sigh of mixed irritation and resignation. He came around the desk to look over his colleague's shoulder at the security feed displayed on his computer monitor. It was one of the cells, mid-level security, with two occupants. He frowned.

"Isn't that your daughter?" He knew it was—it had been years since Noah had seen her, but there was no mistaking the diminutive blonde wrapping lasciviously around a shirtless man.

"It is." Bob stood up from the desk and wandered over to pluck a file from the book case.

"Who's the other—not Monroe!" Noah glanced up at Bob, then back to the screen. "You're not bothered by this?"

"Of course I'm bothered, but I'm not going to do anything about it. You're a father, you should know that responding to attention-seeking behaviour will only encourage it. Eventually she'll realize that she's not going to get a rise out of me this way, and in the meantime it keeps Monroe from scheming up new ways to escape and kill us all."

Noah watched the monochrome figures shifting on the narrow cot. Monroe's scrub pants had been discarded, Elle's legs hooked over his shoulders as he pinned her to the mattress. He watched Adam's lips moving against Elle's ear, the way she frowned and nodded as she twined her fingers in his hair. For some reason, he wasn't so sure.  
*  
On the day that Noah saw them together, Elle and Adam really were screwing. They did quite often: Adam had always had a healthy appetite and languishing in a cell for twenty-some years had left him famished. Elle was just the sweet treat he'd been waiting for, a quick study, enthusiastic and very open to suggestion. Plus, it was good practice for the times when they really weren't. Every time, whether they were doing the squelchy or just pretending, he told her stories. History wasn't just archives and trivia for Adam, he'd lived it (at least the so-called post-Enlightenment). Whether the anecdotes he told were first-hand, second-hand or completely fabricated didn't much matter; the point was the telling, the listening, the mythic power of the narrative.

He told her about leyden jars, the first capacitors, capable of storing and releasing an electrical charge. He told her about Galvani's experiments with nerve impulses, severed frog legs kicking on tables. He told her about dynamos and lightbulbs, telegraph and telephone, radio and RADAR. The Tesla stories were the best—he'd been special, like them, as well as hilariously weird. Every story had its lesson, and quick-study Elle learned them well. That was what they did, the days when they only feigned at fornication, a show for the cameras while Elle practiced her abilities, tricks she never told anyone else about. Manipulating currents in electrical devices; deflecting wireless signals; targeting neuron clusters in the brain.

Adam tilted his head back while Elle scratched her sizzling fingers down his spine. He looked right into the camera and grinned, taunting whomever happened to be watching and reveling in the fact that they had no clue what he was getting over on them while he got his leg over on her. She was the cake and the file, and once she got him out of here he'd make sure she got whatever she wanted—a pony, a castle, a continent. And a quick death, of course, once the virus was released.


End file.
